


heavy rain warning

by 10hr10minute



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Other, mutant powers involved, tokyo summer session!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12958575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10hr10minute/pseuds/10hr10minute
Summary: a collection of one shots because i really shouldn’t open a new fic every time i write a drabblewill update the tags as i go, and further details on each one shot in the chapter notes





	1. let's summer session

**Author's Note:**

> i. tokyo summer session!au  
> ii. miss peregrine's home for peculiar children!au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (completely just me combining tokyo summer session, a song i really like, with soonhoon, a ship i really like) 
> 
> fluff, not au
> 
> ~ it’s the kind of day where you wish you could stop time and never go home ~

Tuesday 

 

The door opened, it was not particularly heavy or gentle, the way the handle sank, and the wood swung inward. Still, it caught the occupant’s attention. Enough that he paused, tilted his head back to see who had entered. The person entering tensed at the sudden attention.

_ “Ah, hello.” _

_ “Hey.” _

…

And nothing.

Sitting at the desk, there was Lee Jihoon, an idol as well as a producer, using his music sheets as a shield to the awkwardness.

Halfway through stepping in, a certain Kwon Soonyoung, fellow idol and choreographer, tapping out a melody only he could hear in place of speaking.

The studio was plunged into a silence much quieter than when Jihoon had been working in it alone. But it wasn’t that they hated each other or anything.

_ “How was your day?” _

_ “Pretty normal, I guess.” _

They definitely weren’t on bad terms.

“Do you want to sit?” Jihoon asked, nervous like a bomb squad officer on the job.

“Right thanks.” Soonyoung grabbed the back of his neck, a tad too stiff as he plonked down nearby.

Rather, perhaps their problem was the exact opposite.

For a long while they sat quiet, two bubbles, working on their own things. It wasn’t important which one spoke first, but because they spoke about work, the words flow naturally, bouncing ideas and presenting opinions in the way they do best.

“By the way,” Soonyoung brought up during a break, casual, conversational,  _ “apparently there’ll be a fireworks show this weekend.” _

Jihoon hummed, then he grimaced.  _ “Really? Ugh sounds crowded and hot.” _

“Oh.” A shaky laugh.  _ “So I take it that you don’t want to go?” _

With a snap, Jihoon’s head went up. In an equally quick motion, he turned so that he was facing away from the other male.  _ “I never said that! Well, on second thought, it sounds pretty fun, I think I’ll go.” _

And he thought he was being smart, hiding his face away. Except the blush was captured perfectly in the mirror, clear for the world to see.

 

Wednesday

 

The day found Soonyoung and Jihoon sitting in the same studio. This time, Soonyoung leaned comfortably against the wall, legs stretched out, and papers scattered all over in front of him. Jihoon was on the chair, legs folded and tucked so he could fit his whole body on the cushion.

They were talking about work again. Plans for future songs. Plans for upcoming performances. There was excitement radiating from them as they talked and laughed and smiled.

At some point Jihoon took a sip from his drink and only a gurgling sound came up the straw.

_ “Drats, I’m still thirsty.” _ Jihoon complained, shaking around his empty cup. The ice slushed together in a terrible crunch.

“Here,” Soonyoung snatched up his bottle from the floor.  _ “Want some of this?” _

Blinking a few times, Jihoon snickered as he reached for the offered bottle, speaking before he could think better of it.  _ “Isn’t this like an indirect kiss?” _

He froze.

That was super awkward! Why did he say that?

Soonyoung was caught in mild shock. Then he softened, putting on an impish grin.

_ “Oh did you notice?” _ Playing it off.

_ “I noticed.” _ Playing it off.

Ah but what the heck, he  _ was _ thirsty.

 

Thursday 

 

The whole group was gathered in the studio, practising. As usual it was filled with boisterous energy, with boys as loud and hardworking as they were. 

One, two, three, four. Squeak the soles against the floor. Five, six, seven, eight. Spin, rotate, pose, that’s great.

But no matter how young, fast, and energetic, they needed their breaks too. As 13 people flopped onto the ground in varying states of jelly, groaning and sighing. Each one doing their own things, catching their breaths, reviewing, chit chatting.

Until Seungkwan’s voice came a little loud among the crowd.

“I thought of a joke. Do you know why Jihoon-hyung is always angry?” He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

The circle was stunned, glancing around at each other with confused faces.

Seungkwan was already laughing. “Because he’s  _ short _ tempered.”

“You want to die?”

Tickled by the exchange, the room came alive with the laughter.

“What the hell?” Jihoon raised an eyebrow, propping himself up now that he was more alert.

“Oh relax hyung,” Seokmin added, coming in with hands held in a placating manner, “it was a small jest.”

Then his brain caught up with his mouth and he realised ‘small’ was probably not a good way to put things.

“Ah.” He said in response.

“That does it.” Jihoon declared, making to stand up, as the laughter came pouring out harder than before.

“Come on guys,” Jeonghan managed to say between laughs. “Stop being mean to Jihoonie.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Seungkwan and Seokmin chorus. In the next brilliant moment of great minds think alike, put their palms together and started singing the Super Junior song.

“They were just joking around.” Junhui smiled, patting Jihoon lightly on the back. 

Jihoon softened. “Of course I know that.” Then he caught sight of Soonyoung, who had apparently not been paying attention to the unfolding mischievousness, glancing around somewhat cluelessly at the bunch. Jihoon’s jaw tightened.

Practice went on as usual after that, flipping a switch for seriousness, over and over again until the music etched into skin and pulsed like blood through their bodies.

When they ended, everyone was sweaty and just ready to shower and sleep. But there was still the matter of deciding which members’ turn it was to clean up. This was usually done by rock paper scissors, the fairest factor in all the land.

Jihoon figured bad mood equalled bad luck, because in the first round, he splendidly lost despite the incredible odds. He stared at the defeated pair of scissors he made with his hand.

The rest were busy trying to pick a second member. There was a lot of bargaining and dealing being thrown about. And as usual, Jihoon noticed, Soonyoung was trying to worm his way out of cleaning duty again.

So he opened his mouth.

“Shouldn’t Soonyoung do it?” He was aware of the slight snap in his voice. “He barely ever does.”

If the members noticed anything off about Jihoon’s behaviour, they didn’t say anything, instead leaving their condolences with a shocked Soonyoung.

As soon as they leave, Jihoon got to tidying, avoiding contact with the other male. It was deafeningly silent. Soonyoung took a huge breath.

_ “Hey erm, I can see you’re pretty mad. Did I… do something to offend you?” _

Jihoon stopped his movement but didn’t look back.

_ “Sometimes you’re really oblivious, you know that?” _

Soonyoung looked down, twiddling with the cloth that he was supposed to be wiping the mirror with.

_ “Is this about the thing about your height?” _ He asked.

_ “I’m gonna punch you!” _ Jihoon spun on his foot, so they were finally facing each other. And Jihoon didn’t know at which point Soonyoung had gotten so close. So close that they were only at an arm’s length from each other.

Instead, Soonyoung put on a cheeky grin.

“Well, but it’s my life motto,” he gestured at the other, “to appreciate the little things.”

He reached out his hand, and gulped, and roughly ruined the other’s hair with his patting.

Jihoon sputtered. “Wha- That’s- Don’t touch me you’re dirty!”

“Can’t. I’m appreciating the little thing.”

“Shut up!” Jihoon loudly protested.

 

Friday 

 

Once more they were in the practice room, sitting side by side on the floor this time. Whenever they talked about work, it seemed to be the easiest. Because they were both passionate, because they both wanted to strive towards their goals, because they both had the same destination. 

No matter how difficult it was to speak well as Jihoon and Soonyoung, it would always be easy as Woozi and Hoshi.

Soonyoung glanced at the cute boy by his side.  _ I try to touch your waiting left hand ever so slightly. I want to hold it, I want to hold it, but instead I play with the strands of my hair. _

Jihoon swallowed a lump down his throat.  _ I’ve actually noticed it. This distance that could be closed in an instant. I want to hold yours, I secretly want to hold yours, but I pinch the cloth of my sleeve. _

 

Saturday 

 

Despite being an idol, where possible, humans were still generally inclined to be more relaxed on a weekend. So it was a refreshing, breezy afternoon, where the sun was pleasantly warm, when Jihoon and Soonyoung were sitting at a park nearby the company for a change of scenery. 

“People who make art need life experience!”

Someone screamed once.

Soonyoung melted in his seat.  _ “Ahhhh, I’m hungry.” _

“It’s your own fault for not bringing anything at all.” Jihoon punctuated this by stroking his sling bag, rubbing salt on wounds.

The former pouted. “I’m dying.”

With a sigh Jihoon relented.  _ “Have some of this.” _ He took out a packet of chocolate chip cookies.

“Could this be?” Soonyoung gasped.  _ “The legendary homemade cookies?!” _

The cookie packet found its way to his face.

“Don’t be stupid!” Jihoon hissed through his teeth.

Soonyoung gingerly plucked the packet of Famous Amos from his face, chuckling slightly. “Thanks anyway.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

The wind rustled the leaves, the birds chirped, the people had their conversation, fractured by the hand of motion, overlaid and mixed and losing meaning. As background as the trees, as enveloping as the warmth.

Then Soonyoung leaned back, looking comfortably at a sky where the clouds blocked the sun, popping another cookie into his mouth.

_ “These cookies are really heaty, you got any water?” _

 

Sunday 

 

The day brought with it the promise of fireworks, so Jihoon wrapped up his work sometime in the late afternoon, took a quick shower and got dressed. Of course, he put on sunglasses and a mask for discreteness. 

Soonyoung was knocking on his door a minute before the agreed hour.

“Yo, you ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

When the arrive at the venue, the sky still had light, and there weren’t that many people in the area. Which they quickly took as a chance to visit as many of the food stalls as possible. And by the time the place really become packed, the two of them, arms full of finger food, slipped out to find a quiet area overlooking the festivities.

“You’re going to get scolded for sure.” Jihoon joked, angling his head towards Soonyoung’s pile.

“You’re literally in the same boat as me.” retorted Soonyoung, but he had no bite at all in his words.

“That’s if Manager finds out.”

Which was, of course, true.

And Soonyoung nodded. “Our secret?”

Jihoon didn’t have hands free to pinky promise, so he stood next to Soonyoung until their shoulders touched. “Our secret.”

With a laugh and a smile, they tucked into their food, sharing with each other.

They spent their time pleasantly like that, as if it was just two people in the world, time seeming to have disappeared. Just one and two, and the world built on memories.

So when the first stream exploded in the sky, they both had a genuine shock. Turning quickly to look at the beautiful flowers of light blooming against the canvas of a night sky that accepted and swallowed.

It was breathtaking. The stories always painted fireworks as some kind of magic, as if they truly were something not bound to this world. They swim upwards, and they open in various patterns and colours, and they fizzle out, but they are so, so, pretty.

With the light display reflecting off their eyes, washing their faces in colours of the rainbow, Soonyoung lost the ability to close his mouth, and Jihoon stopped thinking.

_ “So beautiful.” _

_ “Aren’t they? Absolutely stunning.” _

_ “They are.” _

It would be nice, to live in this moment forever.

_ “I think I like you.”   
_ _ “I think I like you.”  _

“Huh?”  
“What?” 

Soonyoung glanced at the cute boy by his side, watching his profile change from red to orange to green.  _ I try to touch your waiting left hand ever so slightly. I want to hold it, I want to hold it, so I’ll be courageous and hug you instead. _

Jihoon swallowed a lump down his throat, eyes wide first, then relaxing, inhaling the scent of candy apples from the other’s clothes.  _ I’ve actually noticed it. This distance that could be closed in an instant. I want to hold yours, I secretly want to hold yours, so I’ll grip tightly, tightly to your back. _

 

Monday 

 

めでたしめでたし

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- very short, very snapshotty, honestly I’m kind of very out of practice, my writing’s totally whack
> 
> \- i really struggled with ‘thursday’, btw  
> \- also didn’t follow the lyrics 100% 
> 
> \- and while i have you, please check out shakemii stungun version of this song: http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm27385427
> 
> \- tbh i was just really excited to share this idea, i think the work is actually terrible  
> \- also, i’m a mood writer who decided to write fluff while going through an emo time, okay, good job
> 
> \- sankyu


	2. hellfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i had this idea after i watched miss peregrine's home for peculiar children but like biggest similarity in plot is 'home' and 'peculiar children' 
> 
> kind of dark, not horror but has elements

Jihoon knew a lot about death. Which seemed natural, since he was born with the ability to animate corpses however which way he pleased. 

He knew that one could arrange a dead body in any way, twisted into forms no longer human, for the dead do not move.

He knew that one could sit with them for hours, days, weeks, telling them of all manner of stories and tales, but they will not answer, for the dead do not speak.

And perhaps the most telling of all, when one touches them, they do not touch back. For the dead have no warmth. 

Yes, they were cold, and empty, and Jihoon picked up his mother’s pretty, freezing, hand, the bracelet sparkling around her wrist. Then he let go, and it plopped back onto the floor with a sound that was composed only of weight.

The small boy sat there a moment, unsure. On his left, his mother, in a dress of red, crimson in her hair, and scarlet painted her face. On his right, his father, a quiet man grown even quieter. They both held guns in their hands. Or rather, they both had guns resting by their hands, as they weren’t gripping them anymore. And they laid so incredibly still.

But who will prepare dinner? Thought Jihoon.

His mother’s back snapped. Her upper body lifted, as if pulled by a string. With unblinking eyes, her entire body shook and wobbled as she attempted to stand. And when she finally did, she took shaky steps, disappearing into the kitchen.

And who will mow the lawn? Thought Jihoon.

Crick, crick, crack, His father flopped, flipping over once, twice, again, and again. A marionette with its strings jumbled up, his limbs scratching nonsensical patterns into the floorboards. Until at last he seemed to gain his bearing, and jolted upright, heading for the backyard.

Sunrise, and sunset, the food was all gone, and nobody paid the bills. The neighbours whispered, then they spoke, then they hollered.

Soon men in blue came knocking down the door, where they found a lone child, sitting in between his dead parents, scruffy and skinny and completely unbothered by the oddness of the situation.

The policemen held their guns in front of them warily, keeping an eye on their surroundings as they approached the boy.

Jihoon looked at the towering men, each one brandishing that metal object.

“Little boy, are you okay?” One of them stepped forward.

“That thing,” Jihoon pointed at the muzzle. “Is dangerous. You should be careful.”

Then they picked him up, and brought him out. No matter how much Jihoon kicked and screamed, they wouldn’t care. They removed him from his home, they removed him from his parents. Suddenly he found himself in a different house, where the walls were a shade too bright, and the ceiling too high, and he never saw any of the men who came to his house again.

There were other children in the house. Each was different from the other spanning a wide range of ages, features, and personalities. There were tall ones and short ones. Shy ones and outspoken ones. Blonde hair and black hair. But all the same, every single one of them ignored Jihoon.

“A new boy, a new boy, tell us all about him!” Sang the Teddy Bear.

“I know, I know, his parents were murdered.” Replied the Fire Truck.

“What’s mer-dur?” Asked the Doll.

“It means to be killed.” Answered the Building Blocks. “But how would you know?”

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m telling the truth!” Defended Fire Truck. “I heard the adults talking about it. It must be true.”

“If that’s the case,” Teddy Bear spoke up, “Then he was not thrown away.”

A chilling, sinking revelation.

“Then he is not one of us.” Emphasised Teddy Bear.

“Not one of us.” Echoed Doll.

“We will not acknowledge him.” Snickered Building Blocks.

“Whoops, my hand slipped.” Yelled Fire Truck, flying through the air on course for Jihoon. The boy resigned himself to his fate.

Instead there was a blur of motion, someone in front of him before he knew it, and thonk. The red fire truck hit the new boy on the cheek, bouncing off and clattering onto the floor.

The children stop. Their feet one tugging forward, one pulling back, and not going anywhere as a result.

“Accursed child.”

It was a thing they learnt to parrot from the adults.

“Son of the devil. Hated by all. Poor Soonyoung shouldn’t have been born at all.” They went on. And then, as the boy said nothing in return, they huffed, leaving quickly.

The mysterious boy turned around then, Jihoon could see a spot of red on his cheek.

“Are you okay?” The boy - Soonyoung - asked, cocking his head to the side with worry.

Jihoon blinked a few times. He looked down at himself, he looked around, and when he looked back at Soonyoung, Soonyoung was looking at him.

“I’m fine.” He answered. In fact if anything, “what about you?”

Soonyoung had a confused expression.

“Here.” Jihoon reached out a hand to cup Soonyoung’s cheek.

Instantly, Soonyoung pulled back, his eyes wide with panic. “Don’t do that.” He said weakly, holding his own palm over his cheek like he was protecting it. “Please don’t.”

His hand still lingering in the air where Soonyoung’s cheek had been, Jihoon asked, “why not?”

Soonyoung swallowed. “Because it’s dangerous.”

“How so?”

“It just is!”

Jihoon ran as many situations as he could through his mind.

“Will I die?”

Hearing such blunt words was a shock to Soonyoung and he couldn’t answer.

Yet Jihoon took a step towards him, this time he extended both hands, and rested them gently on each cheek. “Well, I do not fear death.”

“How come?”

But Jihoon did not answer. He simply held the other boy’s cheeks. “You are so warm.” He commented. So, so, so warm.

Then Jihoon passed the days pleasantly with this new boy. Kwon Soonyoung was his name. He told Jihoon all sorts of things, from his favourite biscuit flavours, to a time in the past when his parents brought him to the zoo and he got to see the tigers. He also told him that he ended up here because there was an accident at his place. Something caught fire in the kitchen, and so Soonyoung was left alone.

“The other children don’t like it if your parents are dead.” He explained to Jihoon, the two of them snug under the covers of their shared bed. “They get angry.” 

Jihoon pressed closer, basking in the warmth of Soonyoung. “Why is that?” 

“Because the dead don’t mean to throw their children away, I think.”

With a hum, Jihoon recalled his parents standing at arm's length from each other, both with guns. They shouted a lot, so loud Jihoon couldn’t make sense of the words, and then BANG! A sound even louder drowned out all the noise, left a ringing in the air. When it settled, the wave rescinding back to sea, there was no sound at all. Not a thing.

“Maybe they can.” Jihoon murmured.

Curious, Soonyoung stared at him puzzled. Instead of answering, the younger boy closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep. Where in his dreams, he saw his mother cooking in the kitchen, his father mowing the yard, and Soonyoung sitting by his side as they both shared a book split across their laps. And the sun hung warm and bright in the clear blue sky.

And then suddenly, a chill would creep in, and Jihoon’s eyes flew open. He sat up on the bed, alone, Soonyoung was not beside him. Always, always, in the middle of the night Soonyoung would disappear somewhere.

Where? Where did he go?

But always, always, Soonyoung would come back, his hair a little damp and his skin kind of dry. He’d smile, with his usual warmth, tell Jihoon that everything was just fine, and they’d go back to sleep again.

Why? Why wasn’t he back?

Jihoon swung his legs off the bed on instinct. Fueled by a something, an urgent something, he fumbled his way through the dark, foreign corridors of the orphanage in the night. The too bright walls suddenly too dim.

He did not know where he should go. Or where he should go to tell him where he should go. But there was disturbance in the wind, a trail of distortions that Jihoon could just feel. And since beyond that there was nothing else, he followed that path.

Then he heard the splashing of water. Odd.

Then the mumbled sounds of voices passing through walls and distance. Odd.

Then the sharp wail of the wind.

Jihoon ran, faster than he ever thought himself capable. Ran and ran, following the wind. The exercise should have warmed up his body but all he felt was the cold sweat, his blood coagulating in his veins like a sticky monster.

He could hear it now, the voice of the wind. Son of the devil.

He could hear it now, the voice of the people. Hated by all.

He could hear it now, the voice of the water. Poor Soonyoung shouldn’t have been born at-

 

BANG

 

He threw open the door, breathing heavily. All eyes turned to stare. Jihoon tried to make sense of the picture he was seeing. 

Forming a ring, the children, all of whom he could recognise, were dressed in their good clothes, all smiles as they would be on an excursion.

Amidst them, the adults. The three of them. They too were well dressed. Two were holding buckets, and the last had her hands stuck in the tub until the water came up to her elbows.

The tub.

In the middle of it all, a tub, filled with water and ice, and a thing inside that tried to claw its way out.

A thing?

A hand stretched out, breaking the watery surface.

No, not a thing, a person.

A person?

The lady released her grip, and a familiar head of hair rose from the pool, coughing, sputtering, gasping for air, all at the same time.

No, not just a person.

“What’s going on?” Jihoon asked. His tone was frighteningly composed.

“Oh, the new boy.” The lady spoke, extending her hand. Droplets, sparkling in the moonlight, fell from it onto the floor. “See, we are performing an exorcism right now. Have your teachers yet taught you that word?”

Her voice and smile were so gentle, a contrast to the harshness all around her.

Jihoon waited.

“Exorcism. From exorcise. It means to get rid of a demon. After all, our dear Soonyoungie here is possessed. Do you know what that means?”

Yet he waited.

“You do? What a smart boy. It might be a little early for you, but why don’t you join us.”

“Madam, if I may speak.” One of the girls call out, putting up one of her hands.

“What is it, dear?” The kind eyes looked at her.

“That child could be possessed too. Because only another demon can be friends with one!”

A wave of murmurings ripple through the gathered crowd.

The kind eyes blink a few times. “Oh.” She said. “Clever girl.”

“Wait, stop!” Soonyoung yelled, scrambling and slipping on the edge of the tub. “That’s a dirty  lie, I don’t know him! We’re not friends!”

“But dear Soonyoung,” she said in her gentle voice, shoving his head back into the water with graceful strength. “The only dirty thing here is you. And if I do recall, this new boy’s parents, yes, if I do remember, they killed each other. What an unnatural thing, don’t you think? And to have survived that. There must be something wrong with our new boy indeed.”

She seemed to nod to herself.

“Bring him here.”

The two other adults, who had not yet said a word, started approaching Jihoon. The poor boy, his short legs could not outstep the ones of full grown adults.

Don’t touch him.  
“BLDHRGHHAJW”

When their hands grabbed him, Jihoon yanked back.

Don’t touch him.  
“DONYUDBWB TOHUDN HLWKWDIM”

But his undeveloped child strength did nothing, his body still stuck in the position he was.

Don’t touch him. Don’ttouchhim.  
“DON’T TOUCH HIM!!!!!”

Came the roar of Soonyoung, barely able to push his head out of the water. But the roar was not just from Soonyoung. Flowers of fire bloomed on the surface of the water, growing, spreading, until they found and connected to each other. Then they crawled up the walls, spreading out in all directions, wild, untamed, chaos.

The massive heat melted all the ice, and dried up all the water, turning the place into soft white steam that gradually shifted into heavy black smoke. All around the children screamed. And the adults tried to shout over them to calm down.

The smoke swirled, like it had a will, settling like a cage over all but Jihoon. The people inside could not see out. Jihoon could not see in.

“Soonyoung! Soonyoung! Where are you? SOONYOUNG!”

All that answered his cries was the grainy texture of smoke rushing down his throat as he found it hard to breathe. And the screams. Oh how they agonised. How they rang out. How they cried and cried and faded away as the smoke thinned, leaving only one naked boy sitting all alone in the midst of it all. All the dead bodies charred beyond recognition.  

“Soonyoung!”

“Don’t.” Although Soonyoung flinched back in a sharp motion, he sounded tired and resigned. He brought his knees to his chest. Then buried his head in his arms. “I… They… were wrong. I’m not possessed by a demon. Jihoon, I think. I think I am the demon.”

Jihoon knelt down without saying anything, so Soonyoung kept on going.

“My parents. It’s true. The something that caught fire in the kitchen, was me. And then again. And again. Whichever family I went to. Because I am, I am a demon.”

Jihoon a light hand on the other’s arm. His arm was so, so warm.

“You cannot be a demon. But even if you were,” Jihoon started. It was so firm Soonyoung felt compelled to look up at him.

“Then so am I.”

Before Soonyoung could ask, many blackened figures entered his field of vision. And before he could ask what they were, it registered in his brain that it was the corpses, moving their limbs as if they had a place among the living.

More revealing of all, was how they stood in reverence to the boy before them, the boy before Soonyoung. Almost as if they respected him. Almost as if they obeyed him. 

And Soonyoung understood.

 

* * *

 

“Wake up children!”

“Come on now, children, wake up!”

Stirred by the loud voice and the bright rays of the sun shining through the windows, the children were coaxed to rise. They opened their eyes, but the view is bleary. Some of them yawn, some of them stretch, and they all slowly shuffled out of their rooms.

“Jihoon.” Soonyoung called, poking his roommate in the cheek. “Jihoon, it’s time to wake up.”

Jihoon hummed and agreed but he still swayed on his feet, and his head hung weakly to the side.

Soonyoung giggled, used to the affair, so he simply grabbed one of Jihoon’s free hands and led the way to the dining hall.

This morning’s breakfast was toast and jam, accompanied by warm milk. Soonyoung was sure Jihoon would be happy once he saw it.

Just when they all settle in their seats and the adults are about to serve the food, there came a knock from the door.

“Why don’t you get it for us, Soonyoung?” Said the kind woman.

“Okayyy.” Soonyoung chirped, jumping off his chair to walk to the door. He had been in the orphanage a couple of years and as a teenager, along with Jihoon, he was responsible for many things around the place. Many, many things.

Sometimes in the mornings, they’d get milkmen, or newspapers, or salesmen, and it was generally Soonyoung’s job to deal with them. 

Of course he was a little shocked when it turned out to be sturdy men dressed in blue.

“Hello, officers, how may I help you?”

For some reason they look shocked.

“Young man, do you live here?”

“Yes.”

“With other people?”

“Yes, this is an orphanage.”

“Can you let us in? For a simple inspection.”

“No.” Soonyoung smiled. “We don’t need that, thank you.”

“You can’t choose to have an inspection. Move aside, or you will be intervening with the law.”

“This is our home. Please do not bother us.”

The policemen look warily at each other, then they nod.

“We don’t like to do this but you make it difficult.” And they whip out shiny pistols from their holsters. “We’ll have to ask you to step aside.”

“That thing is dangerous. You should be careful.”

A new voice spoke from inside the house. 

“Jihoon! You could have stayed and enjoyed your breakfast, I worked hard to get that milk.” Soonyoung almost whined.

“Well, you were taking a bit so I came to check on you.” Then he turned to the policemen. “But those things, they really are bad.”

“Then let us carry out our inspection!”

Jihoon released a sigh. And after Soonyoung took the trouble to get the milk. He stepped aside for them to enter.

The policemen practically storm into the place, all rush and frantically pounding hearts. They couldn’t come to understand what happened within these walls.

The walls stained with rot and filth and perhaps even splashes of blood. An inescapable smell of ash and cinder filled the very fabric of space. What could have transpired here? And how did those two live in a place as diseased as this?

Then they enter the dining hall, and two neat rows of corpses, arranged twistedly on the chairs as if they were ready for a meal, look directly at them. Or at least, were turned towards them, since they had no eyes to see.

“Who could have done such a thing?” One of them gasp.

“What will you do if you catch the culprit?”

“A crime like this. Lifetime imprisonment is lucky. An execution is more likely.”

Soonyoung hands twitch. Jihoon held them soothingly in his.

“The two of you should come with us.” One of them addressed the duo. “Don’t worry, you’ll be okay from now.”

But neither of them move.

“So you want to take me away from my home again.” Jihoon asked.

“Again?” The man found such a choice of words strange.

Then he felt a sharp pain pierce him from behind. He turned quickly, trying to assess the situation. And the last thing he saw was fire, lots and lots of fire, dancing together with the corpses, like a mad tango, step two three, step two three. And his fellow officers, they dance too. Whether they flee or fight, as their bodies turn in the light. There were screams and squelches and a flame crackling in his ear, a melody to drive one insane.

Ah, it almost felt like hell.

Then the world was black.

 

* * *

 

 

The well polished car made its stop just outside the delipidated house. It was in such a state of disrepair, it was hard to imagine anyone would live in such a place. But Joshua and Jun knew. The places that were hard to imagine people being in were the perfect places to use as hiding spots.

They knew from experience.

“This looks like the place.” Jun commented. It was small talk. “But, I still wonder, why do we have to capture them? Don’t they sound a bit too dangerous to be let loose?”

Joshua beckoned the other over to coil a length of hand wrap around his wrist. “Which could be a big strength if they joined us.”

“That’s crazy.” Jun pouted.

“That’s Cheollie.”

Jun grimaced. Joshua giggled, dropping a kiss on the other’s knuckles as he finished.

“Come on, we have a job to do.”

Jun threw his head back dramatically. “Fine.”

As he trailed after his partner towards the house, and knock strongly on the front door.

.

.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- yo it's been awhile, right?  
> \- yeah i've been really busy and frankly, also didn't really have anything i really wanted to write  
> \- and this story was kind of, really difficult to convey what i wanted
> 
> \- but it's late for me and i hope you somehow enjoyed this little thing  
> \- by the way, yeah, it's jun/joshua at the end, don't @ me
> 
> \- i want to get back into writing T T

**Author's Note:**

> \- hyaho ╰( ･ ᗜ ･ )╯
> 
> \- i've always thought of doing a collection where things can be more informal + i won't open a new fic over every little thing, making things neater  
> \- but at the same time i didn't know what i would title it  
> \- shoot me and go/ bring it is a gift to humanity
> 
> \- i hope you enjoyed something here, and feel free to come talk to me @hoziwooshi or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hoziwooshi)
> 
> \- bye bi~


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